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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28025277">Dreamland</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fieryphrazes/pseuds/fieryphrazes'>fieryphrazes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>MASH (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BJ Goes To Maine, Divorce, Dreams, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hawkeye-centric, Letters, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Canon, Self-Discovery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:35:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,403</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28025277</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fieryphrazes/pseuds/fieryphrazes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“How did we get here?” Hawkeye asked. BJ laughed.<br/>“What do you mean? We walked out the front door and sat down.”<br/>“No, Beej, here. Here. Like this. In Crabapple Cove, with your arm around me. I just went to sleep in Korea,” he explained, “and this is not how we spend our evenings there. Usually we’re elbow-deep in some kid’s guts or a martini glass.” </p><p> </p><p>Hawkeye's not shocked when BJ shows up in his dreams - he just wishes there was a little more depravity going on between them.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>B. J. Hunnicutt/Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dreamland</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were sitting on the front porch in Crabapple Cove, side by side on the hanging swing, the breeze and BJ’s long legs swaying them gently. Hawkeye looked down, surprised to see his own hands – was he in his own body right now? – his own hands, one on the armrest, fingers idly drumming; the other, interlocked with BJ’s, resting on BJ’s knee – because there’s no space in between us, Hawkeye observed – with BJ’s thumb, that marvel of blood and bone and tendon, stroking gently across the heel of Hawkeye’s own hand. <em>Whe</em><em>re</em><em> are we, that we do this now</em>? Hawkeye thought, somehow not worried or nervous or bothered at all. Just swaying on the porch swing, feeling BJ against him shoulder to knee, the skin of his forearm soft and reassuringly warm where their arms wove together. He felt the questions melt away almost as soon as they occurred to him. There was no room for them here, not when he and BJ were so close together.</p><p> </p><p>The PA system chirped something about wounded, and Hawkeye groaned. Oh yes, he was back in his own body. No mistaking that bone-deep ache of exhaustion, or the way his eyes stung from too much light too soon.</p><p><em>Never had a dream like that before,</em> he thought.</p><p>Within minutes Hawkeye was back in the OR, nurses buzzing around him, BJ one table away.</p><p>“Oh Nurse,” Hawkeye said, singing the last syllable. “How about when this is all over, we step into the examination room? I’m due for my physical.”</p><p>He wasn’t disappointed when she shot him down. In fact, if he didn’t know better he’d think the feeling was relief. A night of empty petting seemed boring, somehow. It had never bored him before.</p><p>One table away, BJ tossed a cotton pad onto the floor and cracked his back. Hawkeye thought about BJ’s thumb, inside that kid right now, knitting him back together, and remembered how it had felt against his hand in the dream. He suddenly felt hollow, like there had been a gaping chasm inside his chest this whole time, covered up by a layer of leaves, just waiting for an unsuspecting someone to put their foot down expecting solid ground. Instead, he tumbled down.</p><p> </p><p>They stripped outside the OR, trading red-stained white for olive drab. Back at the swamp, BJ collapsed on his cot and immediately started snoring softly. Charles went about his routine in that obnoxiously fastidious way, straightening the corners of his sheets and lining his shoes up just so beside his foot locker. Hawkeye watched it all happen, laying back with his hands cradled behind his head. He thought about the dream.</p><p>It had been... nice. Just sitting there, being close to BJ. Hawkeye’d had more than his fair share of depraved dreams over the years. He’d made it just about every way you could, and probably some that you couldn’t. It wasn’t unusual to see a man play a starring role; he was more shaken up by the lack of depravity. It had just been nice. <em>Nice is for handshakes</em> , Hawkeye thought as he turned over and punched his pillow into position. <em>Nice is for kids and </em> <em>trips to the </em> <em>soda fountain and... </em> <em>and getting an extra slice of pie because you’re Aunt Margie’s favorite. Well, she could never stand me. Nice isn’t for me. </em></p><p>He tossed and turned for a bit longer, then drifted off hoping for a voluptuous nurse, or a dark-haired stranger with broad shoulders, or a tall drink of water with a smile to die for...</p><p> </p><p>He ended up back on the porch swing.</p><p>This time, instead of enjoying the stillness, Hawkeye turned to BJ, who let go of his hand and casually draped his arm over Hawkeye’s shoulder. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he belonged here, at Hawkeye’s childhood home, in his dreams.</p><p>“How did we get here?” Hawkeye asked. BJ laughed.</p><p>“What do you mean? We walked out the front door and sat down.”</p><p>“No, Beej, here. <em>Here</em>. Like this. In Crabapple Cove, with your arm around me. I just went to sleep in Korea,” he explained, “and this is not how we spend our evenings there. Usually we’re elbow-deep in some kid’s guts or a martini glass.”</p><p>BJ cocked his head. He was so close, Hawkeye could feel heat radiating off of him, and smell the shampoo that Carlye used to use. Oh, yeah, his wires were all crossed.</p><p>“If you don’t like it, we can stop,” BJ said, frowning a bit. Hawkeye wouldn’t let that happen, not in his own dream!</p><p>“No, no! I didn’t say stop! I’m just looking for some answers. Like why I went from having hot and heavy dreams to – this,” Hawkeye said, gesturing between them.</p><p>“Oh, I get it,” BJ said, “I’m ruining your fun! Lana Turner’s waiting in the wings so I better beat it. Hawk, you’re something else. You invite me here, into your head every night, after we’ve spent all day together, and then you act like it doesn’t mean anything!”</p><p>“Slow down, Beej, I’m trying to catch up,” Hawkeye said, one hand rubbing his temple. This was his dream, so why did BJ know so much more about what was going on? He should be in charge in his own dream, shouldn’t he?</p><p>BJ shook his head and started pulling away.</p><p>“No, no, don’t go,” Hawkeye said, getting a grip on BJ and keeping him close. He didn’t know what would happen if they left the swing. He didn’t want to find out.</p><p>“Hawkeye, you’ve got to decide what you want,” BJ said, shaking his head, seeming almost disappointed.</p><p>Hawkeye had no idea what he wanted. But he missed the hand holding.</p><p>“Can’t we go back to just sitting here, enjoying each other quietly?” he asked BJ, coaxing him back. “I won’t even be weird about it tomorrow, promise.”</p><p>BJ relented, finally relaxing next to Hawkeye and allowing him to rearrange their hands until they were clasped together again.</p><p>They sat in silence, that gentle breeze returning. BJ sighed, not unhappily. Hawkeye woke up.</p><p> </p><p>He yawned through breakfast, rejecting the coffee, which smelled even more toxic than usual. He yawned back to the swamp, where he retrieved his towel, only a little bit musty. He’d woken up a little by the time he made it to the showers, where BJ had already claimed a stall. Hawkeye slid in next to him. BJ gave him a glance, then did a double-take.</p><p>“Feeling okay, Hawk? You look a little under the weather,” he said.</p><p>Hawkeye looked directly into the shower head, raining over him.</p><p>“I just feel like there’s a dark raincloud, hovering over me,” he said snidely. “I’m fine, Beej! Just restless last night.”</p><p>“I’ll say, I heard you tossing and turning,” BJ said, scrubbing his arms. Hawkeye scoffed.</p><p>“My tossing and turning is nothing compared to your snoring,” he said. BJ turned to stare at him, affronted.</p><p>“I do not snore!”</p><p>“How would you know? You always sleep through it,” Hawkeye said, putting on an air of reasonableness that he knew would aggravate BJ.</p><p>“Listen here, Peg would have mentioned –”</p><p>“Look, I’m sorry, Beej, but I’ve been sleeping next to you every night for god-knows-how-long, and I can guarantee that you snore. Maybe you didn’t back in Mill Valley, but you do now.”</p><p>BJ looked genuinely put out. He rinsed off and stalked away, muttering something vaguely anti-Hawkeye.</p><p>Hawkeye shrugged and finished his shower.</p><p> </p><p>They kept having the same argument over and over again. Hawkeye just couldn’t stop himself from asking, <em>how did we get here? Where are we anyway? Why do I like it so much? </em></p><p>Sometimes they were back on the porch swing where it all started. Sometimes they were sitting at the kitchen table, posed to eat dinner but with nothing on the table. Sometimes – and these nights were the worst of all – they laid in the backyard on a blanket, staring up at the dark Maine sky scattered with stars.</p><p>Hawkeye couldn’t understand it. Why BJ was invading his dreams, when he was already there for all the waking hours. They ate together, drank together, operated together, wasted time together. Did they need to dream together, too?</p><p>But BJ kept showing up, and there wasn’t much Hawkeye could do about it.</p><p> </p><p>Somewhere along the way he realized why it scared him so much: BJ didn’t seem to want anything from him. He just wanted to sit there, being together. Hawkeye had never not wanted anything from someone. He was either trying to get them in bed, or trying to get them to leave. Usually one followed by the other. It would make more sense to him if they tumbled into bed together on their tour of Hawkeye’s childhood home, or if their simple eye contact turned heated and they ended up tearing each other’s clothes off on the living room sofa. That Hawkeye could handle. That he knew how to do. He was used to it showing up in his dreams, even if he’d been striking out in real life.</p><p>Come to think of it, he hadn’t really been swinging much. The nurses he’d already had had wised up since then, and the ones he hadn’t had were never going to be had. The other guys were too risky. How do you tell who’s queer when everyone’s acting crazy?</p><p> </p><p><em>All I want is a nice starlet,</em> Hawkeye thought, <em>Rita Hayworth... Ava Gardner... Gene Kelly... </em></p><p>It was useless. Although he didn’t dream every night, when he did, it was BJ who showed up. And he never really <em>showed up</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, Hawkeye’d had it. He was taut as a bowstring, unable to focus during the day, because the nighttime refused to give him any release.</p><p>He confronted the BJ in his brain.</p><p>“Alright, this is my dream, so why won’t you sleep with me?” he asked.</p><p>BJ looked over the kitchen table at him curiously.</p><p>“It’s your dream. You don’t want me to.”</p><p>Hawkeye rolled his eyes.</p><p>“I really, really do,” he said. “Believe me, I’m familiar with what desire feels like. It hasn’t left me alone since I was 14, and it sure as hell isn’t abandoning me now.”</p><p>“Hawkeye, we’re inside your head right now,” BJ said, a finger on the tabletop emphasizing his point. “If you wanted to – really wanted to – we would. So there must be some reason you don’t.”</p><p>“Beej, believe me, I really am incredibly attracted to you,” Hawkeye pointed out. “You’re an Adonis, I’d be crazy not to notice. You’ve got those blue eyes and all those teeth and – that’s not the point! Why are you even here if I don’t want to sleep with you?”</p><p>BJ’s eyes twinkled as he leaned back in the straight-backed chair.</p><p>“Maybe there’s something else you want more,” he said, in a tone that told Hawkeye that BJ knew more about the inner workings of his mind than he did.</p><p>Hawkeye scoffed.</p><p>“You’re saying I’d rather hold your hand under the stars than make it? That’s crazy.”</p><p>“You’re the one making it happen this way,” BJ said with a shrug. “I’m just a figment of your imagination, after all. A very tall, handsome, charming figment.”</p><p>“Well don’t get too full of yourself,” Hawkeye said without any venom.</p><p>“Hawk, how many times do I have to tell you? I’m not me. I’m you.”</p><p>That night, Hawkeye launched his campaign: convince himself to let BJ sleep with him in his dreams.</p><p> </p><p>He was surprised how little things changed during the day. In dreamland, he was wheeling and dealing, wining and dining. In waking hours, they kept on as they always had; Hawkeye was almost proud of himself for not carrying it all over. BJ was married, after all, and loved telling Hawkeye how much he loved Peg. It didn’t seem right to sweep him off his feet, right out from under Peg’s sweet little nose.</p><p>The dreams could be enough.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>He never did figure it out.</p><p>When he landed in Boston, his dad picked him up and drove him home. They had a lobster boil the first night. He could almost drown in the drawn butter, it was that good. He wrote BJ after dinner, describing the taste of real butter on his tongue, how unbelievable it was after all those culinary crimes in the mess tent. His dad couldn’t really understand; everyone thought it was cute when he raved about how good the food was, but they didn’t understand it. Only BJ would be able to.</p><p> </p><p>And he did. They traded letters, dissecting their job prospects and listing all their meals and talking about how much they missed – well, not Korea. Not the war. Each other. It was everyone else too, of course. But Hawkeye didn’t end up writing three letters a week to anyone else. It wasn’t really Potter he missed, or even Margaret. It was just BJ.</p><p> </p><p>Hawkeye went on like that for months, writing BJ and waiting for his responses and reading them over and over again. He started to sense something in between the lines; BJ seemed different, less excited about life at home. He talked more about the 4077, and less about his perfect darling family. Hawkeye couldn’t help worrying.</p><p>At night he asked BJ, knowing he didn’t have any answers. Just Hawkeye’s own questions, floating around his brain and ricocheting back in a different form.</p><p>BJ laughed at the question, then considered Hawkeye carefully. Tonight they were on the sofa, Hawkeye laying down, his legs draped over BJ’s knees. BJ’s shoulders sloped toward Hawkeye, hands all over his legs, crookedly leaning in like he couldn’t help it. They weren’t quite there, but they were making progress.</p><p>“You should ask him,” BJ said. Hawkeye threw his hands up.</p><p>“I thought I was!”</p><p>“Hawk, you know the drill by now,” BJ said, rolling his eyes but affectionately squeezing at a thigh. “Ask the real BJ.”</p><p>Hawkeye couldn’t come up wth any better ideas, so he followed his own advice. When he woke up, he wrote a letter.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t keep anything from you, can I?” BJ wrote in his reply. “I might as well tell you. Things aren’t going so great with Peg. I’m moving into the beach house. Full-time.”</p><p>Hawkeye dashed off a reply full of assurances that it wouldn’t be for long, but the next letter proved them all wrong.</p><p>“Peg filed the paperwork yesterday,” BJ wrote. “So you’re looking at one half of a failed marriage. I’m not saying it’s her fault. I think it’s all mine, really. Who wants a husband who’s mentally stuck in a war zone?”</p><p> </p><p>That night, Hawkeye dreamed he was sitting on the floor of his childhood bedroom, playing with the Lincoln Logs that may still be stuffed under the bed. He was building a lopsided little cabin when the door burst open. BJ stood there, a determined look on his face. Hawkeye stared up at him, bewildered, when BJ reached a hand out. He pulled Hawkeye to his feet. He grasped him by the shoulders and planted the kiss of Hawkeye’s dreams on him. Woozy when it stopped, Hawkeye stumbled back onto the twin bed. BJ followed, guiding him back onto the pillow, kissing Hawkeye like his life depended on it. His hands made reassuringly solid contact with Hawkeye’s shoulders, his arms, his hips, reaching lower. All the while kissing him like he didn’t need to breathe, because he didn’t, and Hawkeye didn’t either. It was a dream, after all.</p><p>Afterwards, BJ’s face was buried in Hawkeye’s neck. He felt BJ start to smile against his skin, and hummed questioningly.</p><p>“Did you figure it out?” BJ asked. Hawkeye woke up with a frown.</p><p> </p><p>It took a few letters to convince him, but Hawkeye finally got BJ on a plane. No ulterior motive, just a friendly visit to psychoanalyze his best friend and talk him out of making the mistake of his life.</p><p>“The thing is, you’re in love with Peg,” Hawkeye said matter-of-factly, leaning forward. BJ was sitting on the porch swing, Hawkeye in a rocking chair a few feet away. They were both nursing drinks.</p><p>BJ chuckled in a bittersweet sort of way.</p><p>“I don’t think I am,” he said quietly. “Not anymore, at least.” A shake of his head, and BJ looked at Hawkeye and smiled. “Anyway, since when are you such a believer in the institution of marriage? I seem to remember you railing against it at every opportunity.”</p><p>Hawkeye’s eyebrows did a complicated maneuver, indicating agreement and guilt all at the same time.</p><p>“I just think it’s too soon to give up on something that kept you sane through a whole war,” Hawkeye said, gesturing broadly.</p><p>“I don’t think she’s what kept me sane, Hawk,” BJ said softly. “I think – looking back on it. I thought that it was Peg. But I think now, maybe it was you.” BJ shrugged. Hawkeye leaned back in the chair, which caught him off guard by rocking even farther back than he expected. He ended up nearly flat on his back, legs flailing to regain control – BJ burst out laughing.</p><p>“Hey!” Hawkeye complained. “I need some help here!”</p><p>Still laughing, BJ stood up and grabbed Hawkeye’s hand, pulling him up. They stood for a moment, nearly nose to nose, although BJ’s nose had the higher ground. Hawkeye forced himself to look away so he could catch his breath. BJ still had a hand wrapped loosely around his wrist. He pulled Hawkeye over to the swing.</p><p>“We’ll be safer over here,” he said, smiling. “Just don’t try to lean back.”</p><p>They sat, side by side, BJ’s long legs gently rocking the swing. Hawkeye felt sick to his stomach. A moment of silence, and he bounded up.</p><p>“Another round? I’m buying,” he joked. BJ looked disappointed somehow, but nodded yes.</p><p>Hawkeye tried not to run into the house, keeping his pace casual. In the kitchen, he finally exhaled. He took his time making two drinks and braced himself before heading out.</p><p><em>It’s just the man of my dreams, </em> he told himself. <em> That’s all</em>.</p><p> </p><p>When he returned to the porch, BJ was off the swing. He stood by the railing, looking out into the night. The house faced Crabapple Cove on one side and the coast on the other. BJ looked toward the water, although it was too dark to see anything. Hawkeye came to stand beside him, handing over the drink.</p><p>“Hawk, do you ever think –” BJ paused, still looking out at the mid-distance. “Do you ever think what might have happened if there was no Peg?”</p><p>Hawkeye turned to look at BJ, who stayed in profile.</p><p>“With no Peg there’s no Erin,” he said. BJ grimaced.</p><p>“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said. “Erin’s the best thing in my life. I just wonder. What if there hadn’t been anyone at home, while we were in Korea.”</p><p>“Well, you probably would have jumped on Aggie O’Shea,” Hawkeye said, and BJ glared at him. “What?”</p><p>BJ didn’t respond, just kept looking out at nothing.</p><p>Of course, Hawkeye thought, the funny thing was that he’d been thinking about that, too, after his dream life finally started going the way he wanted. <em>Why now</em> , he’d asked BJ after the second time. <em>Think about it, </em> BJ had said. <em>What’s different now?</em> The only answer had been Peg, and BJ moving out. But that didn’t make sense to Hawkeye – he’d made it with plenty of married guys while wide awake. Why hadn’t he been able to dream it with BJ?</p><p>Back in the physical world, the real BJ let out a frustrated sigh.</p><p>“I always thought there might be something you wanted to, I don’t know, say to me. Once something like this happened.”</p><p>“You expected this to happen?” Hawkeye asked. BJ shrugged again.</p><p>“It started to seem like a possibility, towards the end of the war.”</p><p>“Police action,” Hawkeye jokingly corrected without thinking. He immediately regretted it. “Beej, I – I’m not sure what you’re looking for.” BJ turned around, leaning back against the railing, face toward Hawkeye.</p><p>“You know, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had,” he said.</p><p>“Me too, you know that,” Hawkeye said.</p><p>“I’ve never been like that with anyone else, not even Peg,” BJ said. “All those times we held on to each other. It felt natural, so I didn’t really worry about it. I’m starting to wonder if I should have worried.”</p><p>Hawkeye couldn’t look at BJ. His heart rate was spiking, he could feel it. He stared out at the darkness and took deep breaths.</p><p>“What are you saying, Beej?”</p><p>“I think I’m in love with you.”</p><p>Hawkeye abruptly turned. He walked in a tight circle, hands clasped behind his back, before landing on the swing, face in his hands.</p><p>“God, say something, Hawk!” BJ pleaded. “When you asked me to come, part of me thought – thought that you were just waiting for me to be ready. For me to be free.”</p><p>Every breath was a struggle. Hawkeye felt like he was swimming through plasma, hazy and too thick to inhale. He took deep breaths, trying to make himself stop shaking. Finally, he spoke.</p><p>“I think I was. I don’t think I knew it, but I was waiting.” Hawkeye looked up at BJ, a pillar of tension next to the railing. “I think I’ve been waiting for a long time,” he said with a shaky voice.</p><p>BJ couldn’t hold back a smile. Hawkeye was relieved down to his bones to see it, as BJ came to sit next to him on the swing.</p><p>“So what now?” Hawkeye asked. BJ smiled and took his hand. They sat on the swing, looking out into the night, hands clasped together on top of BJ’s thigh.</p><p>“I think ‘happily ever after’ is traditional,” BJ answered. Hawkeye couldn’t hold in a barking laugh. “Alright, fine, we’re going to drive each other crazy,” BJ amended. “But I think I like the sound of that, too.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>BJ gently nudged him, and Hawkeye blearily opened his eyes. He’d fallen asleep on BJ’s shoulder, there on the swing.</p><p>“Am I awake?” Hawkeye asked, voice rough. BJ laughed. “No, really, Beej, if this is another one of those dreams –” BJ leaned in and cut him off with a soft kiss. When he pulled back just a bit, Hawkeye leaned to follow after him.</p><p>“Does it feel like you’re dreaming?” BJ asked with a smirk.</p><p>“Well, this is – um – sort of consistent with what –“ laughter burst from BJ.</p><p>“You’ve really been dreaming about me! You romantic idiot!” he crowed. Hawkeye rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Well – yeah. For a long time now,” Hawkeye said, only a little bit embarrassed. BJ looked at him, seeming hungry somehow.</p><p>“Well, how did they go?” BJ asked, and Hawkeye waved a hand, demurring. “Did we hold hands on the porch swing?” Hawkeye nodded, embarrassment growing.</p><p>“Oh, boy, this is too good,” BJ said. “Did we make out on the living room sofa?” He watched Hawkeye’s cheeks turn pink. “Did you take me to bed?”</p><p>Hawkeye jangled his head, more to release some tension than to say no. BJ understood, somehow.</p><p>“Hawk,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw, “take me upstairs.”</p><p> </p><p>When they made it to the top landing, Hawkeye stopped. BJ crashed into him in the dark, and they ended up grasping each other by the shoulders, trying to stay upright.</p><p>“I just realized I never said it,” Hawkeye said. He could tell BJ was smiling, even though he couldn’t make out his face.</p><p>“So say it,” he said gently. Hawkeye took another deep breath.</p><p>“I think I’m in love with you, too.”</p><p>Within a moment, Hawkeye was crushed against BJ, being kissed within an inch of his life. This BJ – brave and vulnerable and so, so real – he was everything and nothing like the dream. Hawkeye melted against him, something bright and warm bubbling up inside.</p><p>They stumbled into Hawkeye’s room, and he paused for a moment to turn on a lamp. The warm light permeated the room, casting shadows here and there, making BJ’s skin glow. Hawkeye held him at arm’s length for a moment, just looking at him. BJ, here, real, in love with him. He started laughing.</p><p>“Hawk, is now really the time –” BJ huffed, exasperated but so full of affection that he couldn’t quite finish. It was just as well, because Hawkeye pulled him close and picked up where they left off on the landing. BJ’s hands landed on Hawkeye’s back, grasping his shirt, holding on for dear life.</p><p>“I love you,” Hawkeye said between kisses. “I love you. I love you.” BJ groaned.</p><p>“You’re killing me, Hawkeye,” he practically growled, hands slipping underneath Hawkeye’s t-shirt, fingers fanning wide on his shoulder blades. “Do you have any idea how much –”</p><p>“Yes,” Hawkeye interrupted.</p><p>They shed layer after layer, until it was just them and the warm lamplight and a cool sheet. Until there was nothing in between them anymore, just love and laughter, making love and making fun.</p><p> </p><p>They lay quietly, after, BJ flat on his back with Hawkeye tucked into his side. He traced a hand up and down Hawkeye’s arm, drawing goosebumps to the surface. Hawkeye shivered.</p><p>“So what now?” BJ asked softly. “Do we just keep writing letters, after all this?” Hawkeye pushed himself up onto an elbow.</p><p>“If you think you’re getting rid of me now –” he threatened as BJ laughed, “No way. Absolutely not, Beej. You’re stuck with me.”</p><p>“I have to go back,” BJ said, shaking his head. “You know that.”</p><p>“Of course you do. That’s why I’m coming too.”</p><p>BJ’s eyes went wide.</p><p>“Just like that?” he asked. Hawkeye nodded.</p><p>“What, you don’t think I can handle California? I just held my own pretty well against a California boy, you may recall,” Hawkeye said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. BJ laughed again, pushing him playfully.</p><p>“Okay, okay! We’ll figure it all out,” BJ said with a grin. Hawkeye suddenly got a very serious look on his face.</p><p>“I really do love you,” he said, sounding almost confused. BJ pulled him back down to the bed, hand once again tracing up and down Hawkeye’s arm. The goosebumps returned.</p><p>“That goes double for me,” he said.</p><p>BJ fell asleep smiling. Once he heard that soft snoring start, Hawkeye followed him into dreamland.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please let me know... could you tell the two BJs apart? Was it confusing, or did it work out okay?</p></blockquote></div></div>
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